Respectability Poems | Examples

The Great Man is like an ice mountain, cold and unwavering, fearless of opinion

The Great Man is like an ice mountain, cold and unwavering, fearless of opinion,
Devoid of virtues that accompany the respect and respectability of the herd,
If he cannot lead, he walks alone on the rough paths of his destiny,
Knowing he is ineffable, he tastes the bitterness of unshared intimacy.
When not speaking to himself, he wears an impenetrable and mysterious mask,
Within him exists an inaccessible solitude, untouched by praise or criticism,
In this silence, he finds the strength to never hesitate,
And in this isolation, he discovers his pure and unaltered essence.
Like a solitary stag in the forest of thoughts, he follows his path,
Without seeking familiarity, he finds the bitter taste of truth,
He is a soul dancing on the edge of a misunderstood world,
Where the echoes of the herd cannot penetrate his depths.
The Great Man is like a star in the infinite night, shining far away,
Misunderstood by the crowd, but blinding in his own unique light,
In this distance, he discovers the freedom to truly be himself,
And in this vast and silent space, he finds his eternity.

Why wine

so many gallons of it, of highest quality,
smooth but potent: where did it come from?
the servants who filled the jars with water
have the clue, but must keep mum;
most guests, incurious, gratefully quaff it

he’d first refused his mother’s hint, but she
told the servants to do whatever he said,
confident, it seemed, in his generosity,
not to say frivolity, in using such power,
towards hospitality, even drunkenness

since this time and place, wine
can claim religious respectability,
and must be on the menu of any posthumous paradise,
as ambrosial at least as that at Cana,
with the tasteful byline ‘a little taste of heaven’

Le Petomane

Joseph Pujol, Flatulist
1/6/1857 - 8/8/1945

He started working as a baker
And ended up being the same
But for nearly thirty years he 
Enjoyed international fame.
Using his natural talent
For quite a long while
He entertained the elite 
In his own unique style.

He could break wind at will
With  superb sound control 
Wore a special pair of breeches
With an appropriately placed hole
And, with a series of tubes
Could play tunes on a flute
Blow out a distant candle
Imitate a duck or coot.

He gave delight to millions 
With his travelling show
Cheered and feted wherever 
He was invited to go
He couldn’t compete with 
The noise of the first Great War
So he retired back to his shop
To become a baker once more.

So, All hail  le Petomane
The man who made of it an art,
And added respectability to,
The discreetly dropped fart.
Before  crowned heads of Europe  
At  the height of his glory
Sadly  the modern world has 
Almost forgotten his  story.

Overcoming the Influence of I

"I" lends respectability
To extant personality
And offers much to those it serves -
Perhaps more than it should deserve.

Important as this "I" might be
It lacks depth in humility
And sometimes fails humanity
By being its own efigy.

Beyond the realm we know as "I"
Is that which we identify
As beneficial harmony
That honors truth and equity.

It is a place of selfless grace
With neither gender, class nor race;
No self-proclaimed philosophy
Nor strident religiosity.

It prompts no economic scheme
Of gain derived through plan or dream
And holds the harness of the Id
As Ego, superego did.

It gives no thoughtless verity
To "sunshine days" integrity.
Unawed by status or by wealth -
This is the realm of "Beyond Self."

This realm is blessed with keen insight
Enhanced by self-reflection's light
And tests responsibility
In terms of our civility.

Here, selflessness is our just cause
Relying on a moral clause
That accepts human frailities,
Conditions and proclivities.

Price For Respectability

Price for respectability
never means to spend money like water

While the wife of a poor country’s president
was outside at a shop that sells luxury items,
the shop window broke and cut her purse
and tons of bloody dollars slide out like a rocket

Noble Virtues

Virtue
of Loyalty:
dependability
sincerity, devotedness
fidelity, credence-
noble to be
Loyal.

Virtue
of Honesty:
respectability
transparency, morality
accountability-
noble to be
Honest.

Virtue
of Eagerness:
vim, determination
committedness, vitality
exhilaration, flare-
noble to be
Eager.

Virtue
of Cleverness:
acuity, quickness
inventiveness, sagacity
artistry, intellect-
noble to be
Clever.


May 18, 2021

Heptastich is a non-rhyming verse poem of 7 lines;
Syllables are; 2-4-6-8-6-4-2

Runny Honey

Let is flow like runny honey your sweet creativity,
                 Let is shine all sublime your original artistry.
        For you have your place with such grace and respectability,
        Do your thing so it may bring you peace and sheer stability.









~ For 'Liberum Divisa 5 Poetry Contest', Sponsor: Gregory R Barden~
  Taken from 'Inspiration for writers'

Inspiration For Writers

Let is flow like runny honey your sweet creativity,
Let is shine all sublime your original artistry.
For you have your place with such grace and respectability,
Do your thing so it may bring you peace and sheer stability.
Express yourself with no fear for we all have our place
to be a part of greater art where others can embrace...
Your theories, your ideas, your feelings from your heart,
Know your worth born on earth to be a working part.
Write, write, write and to delight write on til all duration
Be proud of you and all you do for such imagination !

Hidden Behind the Clouds

During these times, our cities stand bare. 
In picturesque grey, without a busy business.
A mask the merchandise wear standing there. 
In silent closure, venues lost all their riches. 

Suddenly, blown down by the wildest hurricane.
Storms wrapped in a riddle made business failed. 
A blitz from the mythical sky to the premises came. 
Lapping each day with rapid vortex rain and hail.

The dark energy defines our impregnability. 
Pierce the veils with deep dimension floods.
The shock takes us there, to a place of poverty. 
There the metropole is hidden by the clouds.

We see now our lives bare as the autumn trees.
With hardly anything of merchandise to boast.
Yet, hidden behind the clouds, there are cities. 
Wearing clothes of gold-lined along the coast.
  
They froze in an aura of respectability nearby. 
Anxiety spreads and grinds to an immediate debt. 
Far in the sky, heaven hears our mother city cry. 
For compensation given with faltering breath.

Borrowing and worrying loom as winter gloom. 
Hope offers the boom of gifts we love so vainly. 
Government masquerades rise in compassion. 
As the cunning masters of infinite mercy.

Dignity

Power to the people majority understand good over evil. Evil can't change the truth of the hearts of not one. We individually yet collectively ideas, thoughts, actions, together are the people. We The people. Respectability combine with self-esteem was poured into a glass. Add moral worth announce happy hour drinks free 365 days of the year. Correctness of character and behavior becomes a drunken trend. All want to be free with no other controlling our life influencing our decisions. The world itself really not such a cruel place. Some times the weather bad & at times the ground shake. Ironing out the hypocrisy of self while agreeing with manipulation for pay & profits leading some to deception alley. Gray areas and dark places not visible; hidden in conceited situations. Broken tragedies of former pride humbled to humility. To search and acknowledge the good buried deep inside. A blessing here and now cleansing sins B-4 one's end. Preparation for eternity to begin. Humility an underrated priceless treasure no dust or rot can touch....



                                          Enjoy!!!!

Stalemate

We became blind to His love for us
Failing to honor Him in our worship
His choices now offend us
And our offerings now offend Him
Our hearts refuse to take Him in
So, we go through the motions
For the appearance of respectability

We are hypocrites
Asking Him for His blessing
While dishonoring His name
We have turned back from following Him
Our speech becomes ever more sinful
Showing partiality in His instructions
Showing lack of influence by the Spirit

We are disillusioned 
Accusing Him of injustice
Because the wicked are prospering
While our own service to Him is unprofitable
So, we withhold from Him
And become more self-assertive
Dealing treacherously with each other

We are lacking spiritual kinship
Yet, it's because of His justice
We still have space to repent
To return to Him and regain His blessing
To avoid the curse and coming judgment
He will send Elijah before that Day
To break the stalemate

My Contribution To Saving the Planet

I gave up my clothes drier,
For cleaner air.

I started a metal recycling scheme for my local church,
So as not to leave them in the lurch.

I dig most of my waste food into the garden,
And it now looks more like a miniature Eden,

I separate my paper and plastics,
And only toss waste into bins.

I try not to buy products that contain palm oil,
Cause the environment they only spoil.

I read up on what is user friendly,
And treat Animals Kindly.

 I pick up rubbish in the street,
To make it look neat.

I hardly ever take the car anywhere I can walk,
As I try to not be just all talk.

I write on both sides of a sheet of paper,
Which I think quite proper.  

We don't have a TV in every room,
Or more than one broom.

Our batteries we re-charge,
Despite the extra charge.

Yet my biggest contribution to sustainability,
Something that needs a lot of agility,
And built up resist-ability,
That will give you respectability,
And your dollars longevity,
Leaving you with credibility,
When if you only need one commodity,
That is all you come out with, hopefully.

The Lodge

neglected
        once lamented
now graffiti
          scrawled:
faded respectability
of
   yesteryear and
outdated
            taste:
now.  
     litter-strewn,
dusty
        cold & musty
sepia like
in the late
       Autumn 
                   sun

Spring Sonnet

spring sonnet 

The vines are greening and the old man who owns the vines 
was busy trimming them although it was Sunday and church 
bells chimed He is very old 92 last year, and it was father’s day 
a few days ago. He never married, but every bush is his child 
And he gives them equal time. He is in many ways a lucky man 
the vines love him, he knows that, leaves softens in his caring 
hands that carry a promise of everlasting worship.
On father’s day, I never left the house, sat by the phone waited 
for a call from my daughter, she is everything I never achieved, 
my futile dream of respectability. 

A whisper of a wind came through the open window, gently told 
me that my cherished is a figment of my dreams of perfecting.
Then an irate storm cast rattled the window, your real daughter was 
born in poverty in Kingston, Jamaica, the child of a prostitute and 
she became one too.

Double Edged Sword

I cant take it anymore,
This isn't what I've planed for!
I was confident, saturated with ambition,
I became lost, with no destination.

I had it all, It got took all away;
Joy,love and transparency, became nothing but sadness, hatred and ambiguity.
I loved the way it was, but it was never Okey,
Okey for adapting to facing indignity with respectability.

However Seeking change, Is a double edged sword challenge;
A halt caused by fearfulness, or a motive stimulated by persistence;
To shrink and deteriorate, to rise and pullulate.

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